


Bristol or Bust

by haldoor



Category: Torchwood
Genre: I Love Everyone In This Bar, M/M, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 23:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haldoor/pseuds/haldoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Warnings/Spoilers:</b> None for the show<br/><b>Disclaimer:</b> I definitely don't own any rights; if I did Ianto would still be firmly tucked up in Jack's bed.  No money made.<br/><b>Beta:</b> Always far too generous to me, <span class="ljuser i-ljuser"></span><a href="http://siluria.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://siluria.livejournal.com/"></a><b>siluria</b> ran her eyes over it; any remaining mistakes are my own.<br/><b>Summary:</b> Ianto wakes up in a strange flat in Bristol remembering nothing; Jack helpfully supplies some answers<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Bristol or Bust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hanorganaas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanorganaas/gifts).



> Written for [](http://theladymore.livejournal.com/profile)[**theladymore**](http://theladymore.livejournal.com/) as a reward for a weekend challenge at [](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/profile)[**1_million_words**](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/), this also fits in with the comm's [Torrid Tuesdays](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/178700.html) prompt for this week: _I love everyone in this bar/what happened last night_. [](http://theladymore.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://theladymore.livejournal.com/)**theladymore** 's prompt was _something really fluffy or really kinky nothing having to do with that monstrosity called Children of Earth_.

Something touching his lower back woke Ianto, and he opened his eyes, squirming slightly on his stomach as the caressing fingers circled in that spot that was somehow directly connected to his groin. Ianto managed a smile, and sighed softly as the touch moved lower and a finger stroked down the curve between his arse cheeks.

"Mine." Jack's voice drifted up to him, followed swiftly by the removal of the finger, and then Jack's body thumped down on the bed beside him. "Not to be offered around."

"What?" Ianto turned his head curiously in Jack's direction, and the action set loose the headache that had clearly been waiting to ambush Ianto out of desire and into a hangover. "Ouch."

Jack was dressed and lying on his side, one hand propping up his head as he trailed fingers across Ianto's skull and smiled at him. "Ah, the hangover stage. Anything from last night coming back?"

"I need a tea boy of my own," Ianto groaned, closing his eyes and opening them again. "Did you retcon me?"

Jack laughed. "You'd be in better spirits if I had. I'll make the tea while you gather your wits, shall I?"

Ianto was tempted, but Jack made lousy tea. "No, you don't. I'm not having you make a mess in my…" Ianto looked around and amended the sentence. "In any kitchen. Where are we?"

"Apartment in Bristol. Belongs to a friend of mine."

"Bristol?" Ianto sat up. He closed his eyes and just managed not to clutch his head in pain, before opening them again and shifting to the side of the bed. He looked around. "Where are my clothes?"

Jack sat up, leaning against the headboard and stretching, arms behind his head as he grinned in that infuriating way he had when he knew something someone else didn't. "So… you can't remember any of it? Over there; your clothes." Jack nodded in the direction of an armchair facing a balcony window.

Ianto shook his head gingerly and headed for the chair, hoping desperately that no one had a view into this fancy flat from outside past the balcony. He struggled into his clothes as quickly as he could, and licked around the inside of his mouth to dampen the awful taste that had become an increasingly apparent reminder of exactly what sort of things he'd gotten up to last night.

In the kitchen, he found the kettle and filled it, plugging it in and then hunting mugs and teabags down in a couple of the myriad cupboards. "Don't s'pose there's milk and sugar," he grumbled under his breath as he opened the fridge.

"Probably is," Jack said from far too close, making Ianto jump. "My friend is quite particular about being stocked up, in case."

Ianto pushed his heart back down his throat and took a breath. "In case of what?" He took stock of the three kinds of milk, and chose one at random to pour some into the mugs. He raised his eyebrows and nodded in appreciation as he found a pot labeled 'sugar' in a cupboard full of pots and jars of jams and spreads.

"Who knows? Nuclear holocaust; weevils in the streets; invasions by drunken Welshmen?"

The kettle boiled, negating the need for Ianto to comment. In any case he couldn't think of anything clever to say. He poured water into the mugs and stirred several heaped teaspoons of sugar into one.

Once the tea had brewed, Jack took the unsugared one and looked at him sideways as he sat down at the table.

Ianto took a sip of the heavenly liquid, sighing in pleasure before sitting opposite Jack and wrapping his hands around the mug to drink again. He closed his eyes, partly to savour it and partly to ignore Jack's scrutiny.

"Where to begin…" Jack murmured, and Ianto could hear the laugh in his voice.

It wasn't worth putting the inevitable off for much longer. Ianto took another gulp of his delicious sugary tea and opened his eyes properly. "Go on then; you're dying to fill me in with all the gory details."

Jack settled back against the chair with his grin firmly entrenched; it was obviously going to be a long and very graphic story. "Shall I start from the phone call, or from when you left the Hub last night? Or the bar? It wasn't easy understanding your version of events, but I got a much better idea of it all when Martin told me about your invitation."

"Invitation? Who on earth is Martin?" Ianto was completely lost.

"Okay." Jack sipped from his tea and then placed the mug down on the table, gesturing at Ianto and waggling his eyebrows. "When you're drunk, you're _very_ friendly. Although, I have to say, I was a little surprised at your taste in men. Martin's nothing like me."

"No-one's like you," Ianto mumbled, noting Jack's pleased expression even as he hoped the man would rot in hell before Ianto had opportunity to do anything like whatever he'd done last night again.

"You were in a bar near home in Cardiff, Martin said, and you were drinking."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Sybil Fawlty School of the Bleeding Obvious."

"Hmm?" Jack lifted an eyebrow.

"Never mind," Ianto waved a hand dismissively. "Go on; tell me the story."

"Thank you. Martin said you'd obviously had more than one or two already by the time he showed up. You were up to buying a round for everyone in the place. Said 'I love everyone in this bar' more than once, apparently."

"Jesus…" Ianto lowered his face into his mug again.

"Martin said you were asking if anyone would take you to London."

Ianto lowered the mug, and closed his eyes again. It sounded vaguely familiar, but not in a good way.

"You were offering your body to _anyone_ who would leave straight away."

Ianto couldn't open his eyes. The look that he was sure would be highly amused – and slightly leering – on Jack's face was not one he wanted to see any time soon.

"Martin says a couple of 'rough trade' types were arguing over which one of them would get the pleasure. He wasn't sure either of them were a good prospect, considering your state of inebriation, so he whisked you away while they were facing off like dogs after a bitch in heat. Excuse the metaphor."

Ianto opened his eyes the tiniest fraction, lifting his head just enough to try to judge how amused Jack was and whether the story was going to get even more horribly embarrassing.

"He had a few ideas of his own, I imagine, but getting you into his car was his first order of business, as you seemed intent on _walking_ to London by that point of the evening. Finally, he managed to convince you that you'd never make it before morning on foot, and by the time he'd stuffed you into a seatbelt, Goliath and Godzilla had come out from the bar and were making a beeline for their lost prize. Martin said he put the pedal to the metal and headed for the M4."

"He was going to drive me to London?" Ianto couldn't help asking.

Jack shrugged, one lip quirked up. "Figured he may as well; didn't know where you lived and you wouldn't be talked out of heading to the 'Big City'. I guess he liked the idea of rescuing a damsel in distress. Besides, the Twin Hulks looked set to get on your tail and he wasn't taking any chances. Said he had nothing better to do on a Friday night, anyway."

"So why'd we end up in Bristol?" None of this was in any way clear in Ianto's mind. Ianto sipped at his tea, trying to decide why he'd have wanted to leave Cardiff – and Jack – anyway.

"You said you felt sick, and it so happened you were near the turn-off. And once he'd stopped so you could… uh… clear your thoughts…"

"Don't be so delicate. You mean I threw up on the side of the road."

Jack gestured agreement without words. "You saw the sign for Bristol, apparently, and suggested you go there for fish and chips."

"Clearly, I was not in my right mind."

"Martin didn't think you'd take no for an answer, even though by now it was after midnight and the chances of a chip shop being open were slim. Anyway, you arrived in Bristol a little while later, and Martin said you got very annoyed that the shops were all closed."

"This is when I phoned you?" Ianto said slowly, lifting his mug for another warming gulp of tea. That did sound hazily familiar.

"That would be correct. I had no idea where the best chip shop in Bristol was, but there was no convincing you. Finally, Martin took the phone off you and spoke to me direct."

"By the time he'd explained a few things, and then turned around to check on you, you'd fallen asleep at a bus stop and he couldn't wake you."

"No wonder these trousers are feeling so grotty."

"I did the only thing I could. I came to get you. Made a few calls in case it was easier to stay here, and… here we are." Jack waved a hand expressively and raised his eyebrows before reaching for his tea, taking a large swig and swallowing it appreciatively.

"What happened to Martin?" Ianto was almost afraid to ask.

"I thanked him for sticking with you; for his patience and restraint, and then sent him on his way. Immediately."

The way Jack said this made Ianto look at him suspiciously. "He hadn't…"

"No. As I said, he was very restrained, but he obviously had _ideas_ , which I very quickly relieved him of."

Ianto felt a warmness spreading through him at the expression in Jack's eyes, and he couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face. "You didn't want him to…" Jack's words from earlier, when Ianto had woken, came back to him.

_Mine. Not to be offered around._

Ianto snorted, the thought of it nudging his memory hard. Now he remembered why he'd gone to the bar in the first place. He'd been pushed aside for one of Jack's conquests. Jack had headed off to dinner with some woman from some agency or other who wanted to 'discuss Torchwood's policy' on some form of extra-terrestrial technology that Ianto couldn't remember even seeing. He'd walked right past Ianto with his arm around her shoulders and barely even acknowledged Ianto's disappointment; they'd been going to spend the evening at Ianto's flat.

Ianto had taken Jack's feeble excuse for a date to mean Jack felt like getting lucky with someone other than _him_ that night.

"No, I absolutely did not," Jack was saying, looking at Ianto with one of his more possessive looks.

Ianto shifted uncomfortably. "So what happened to what's-her-name? The woman you took to dinner?"

Jack's face split into a grin. "So you do remember something from last night. You were jealous."

Ianto frowned, gripping his mug tightly and looking away as he lifted it to drink from. "No."

"Oh, you definitely were. For what it's worth, she wasn't my type."

"Everyone's _your_ type, Jack." Ianto couldn't help the slight bitterness at how easily Jack was swayed by… well, everyone. Then something occurred to him and he smiled, secretly pleased. "She wasn't interested, was she?"

"You got me," Jack agreed, shrugging. "But since you ask, I'd already decided I'd drop her off after dinner and call you to apologise for abandoning you."

"Why didn't you?" Ianto squinted suspiciously at Jack, placing his mug back on the table but continuing to fiddle with it.

"I did, but you didn't answer. You were probably well on the way to being drunk in that bar by then. I guess you didn't hear the phone."

He looked slightly wistful now, Ianto decided. "So what did you do?"

Another shrug. "Went back to the Hub and waited for you to call me."

Ianto nodded, smiling unevenly at Jack. Jack just grinned back at him, his eyes soft.

"Time to go home now?" Ianto finally dragged his eyes away from Jack's to look around them. "Should I clean up before we go?"

Jack shook his head. "Just put the mugs in the dishwasher. My friend has a cleaner who will take care of the sheets."

Ianto frowned, wondering. "Did we…?"

Jack waggled his eyebrows, his grin widening as they stood up. "You're a tiger when you wake at three AM with a hard-on and a bad case of regret."

Ianto blinked, trying not to sound too outraged at not remembering anything about it. "I didn't, did I?"

"No, not really. But you owe me. When we get home, I'm stripping you naked and pouring honey all over you, then licking it off while you beg me to screw you three ways to Sunday."

"Typical," Ianto growled, but he knew his eyes were sparkling. "It would have to be something messy, wouldn't it?"

Jack just laughed.

~//~


End file.
